


The Port Authority

by thejeeperswife



Series: Finding Harbors [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age - Various Authors, Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Baby Pool - Freeform, Best Friends, Bets, Defiance, Doing the Right Thing, Don't copy to another site, Drunken Confessions, Drunkenness, F/M, Flirting, Fluff, Friendship, Godparents, Newly weds, Office Activities, One-Shots, Protective Older Brothers, Relationship Help, Sex Dream, Smut, Snippets, Supplemental to "Passing Ships", Supplementals, Support, Unplanned Pregnancy, Wedding, betting pools, nosy friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-22
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:41:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24312943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thejeeperswife/pseuds/thejeeperswife
Summary: One-Shots and Snippets that compliments the fan fiction"Passing Ships".It includes additional scenes, alternate Point of Views, and silly side shenanigans that would make the story too long.
Relationships: Cassandra Pentaghast/Male Trevelyan, Cullen Rutherford/Female Trevelyan, Female Inquisitor/Cullen Rutherford, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Series: Finding Harbors [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1755157
Comments: 60
Kudos: 32





	1. Cullen:  *After*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I finished writing ["Passing Ships"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23895865), but there were little things I added as one lines in the story or never explored in the main story. I suggested on [my Tumblr blog](https://thejeeperswife.tumblr.com/) if anyone would be interested in little one-shots and snippets that people can read along with the story. I might do one a week (usually 500-1000 words max) if you all enjoy them.

“Eve…!” Cullen cries desperately and dashes after Evie. The room she flees for is a bedroom, likely hers. Cullen slides on the hardwood floor, his arms encircling the sobbing woman he wreaked with his words and actions. His startling action stops her arms slamming the door in his face. His ear lays against the baby bump, ignoring how the gown’s jewels cut into his face. All his ear craves is that tiny heartbeat she holds inside her womb. No, the man wishes for _her heartbeat_ from her brother’s donated heart. It will then show she is real and with him.

_I must fix this. I cannot let her go!_

Her arms and hands hang in the air, frightened and shocked by his sudden show of compassion after so many accusations. Cullen is no better than those filthy people who touched her abdomen without permission the last few months. However, he needed to be radical to begin unknotting the damage he created. He waits for her to mind blast him across the loft or cremate him into ash. He deserves no less.

Yet, unlike Cullen’s lashing tongue, Evie does neither. She trembles in his arms, bare feet frozen between her bedroom door frame and his harden body kneeling and hugging her abdomen like she is his life boat. Cullen feels her tears dropping on his tossed curls. Little snorts whine through her nose. She does everything possible to keep the sobs in.

“Forgive me…” Cullen breaths, fisting her gown in his shaking hands. “Forgive me for being the monster I have and always will be. Those words were me, but of a man I’ve done everything in my power to never become again. He spoke first out of fear and misguidance. You might fear what I might do to you and this baby, Eve, but it is I who tremble now at what I’ve done and might never undo. I left the Order, quit lyrium, became a doctor, and spent nearly a decade in therapy and care to be better than I once was. You’ve done right to stay away from me because as I have showed here, I am still that heinous lyrium monster. I will ruin you and this child. I do not deserve to be a father.”

Evie gasps, her hand slapping over her lips. Her sobs get more intense. Her other hand slowly falls from the door frame.

“You might believe courts will remove this child from your arms, but this child will never rest in mine. For, if I was such a man to call you a blood mage, the court would see who I served and did as a Chantry knight. The judge will jar me from you two’s lives.” Cullen confesses, his own tears flowing. “You’re right, this child is a miracle. They should never be near a corrupted, disgusting man such as myself.”

Cullen smells that iconic orange and clove scent that haunted him these last five months. Now, he feels her heat through the dress; the scent enrapturing him. A single hand touches his hair, but the fingers do not move. No matter because his mind remembers what their soft touch feels against his body and across his cheek. This is his haven…one he burned to the ground with words.

“You’re everything I’ve ever wanted in one being. A passionate heart, spirited, stubborn, and humorous. You carry our child, the family I’ve craved for years now.” The blond man declares, waiting for everything to disintegrate from his life forever. “I’ve caused these tears and pain. I should have hugged and kissed you, professing what I thought I lost. I should be your shield and shoulder, not your enemy.”

Cullen lifts his head upward, but Evie’s red face is unclear through his tears. “I knew about the ripped condom…I should have woke you when I reentered the hotel bedroom. I’m at fault for all of this too, especially for knowing not to keep condoms in such a mangling place. I thought I would have the morning to ask all my questions. What is your name? Where did you get those surgery scars? May I see you again…?”

Evie hiccups, her fingers in his hair twisting around the curly strains. “…You don’t blame me…?”

“We both created this life…” Cullen slowly stands up, his head hanging to show his shame. “I should have warned you…searched for you too…Why didn’t I? I could have been here for you through every trauma and heartache.”

“You left with a piece of my heart, Eve.” The man confesses, pulling out his tuxedo handkerchief and dabbing away her snot and tears. Her beautiful cat-eye makeup is just a smear down her cheek and neck now. “I cannot forget or let you go, my Lady. Forgive me for being a right arse…”

“We’re scared…” Evie whispers. “We’re both what we hate.”

“How can you hate yourself when you are everything I never knew I always needed and wanted?” Cullen questions, pulling Evie closer. She lets him for whatever reason. She should set him on fire or stonefist him into a brick wall. How can she be so compassionate after all that he has done? “I don’t deserve you…”

Evie cups his cheek, wiping away his own tears as more flow from her beautiful green eyes. “You don’t know me…”

“And you know nothing about me. You see why I’m alone.” Cullen declares, a growl in his voice as his skin goosefleshes every time her finger grazes his facial stubble. “I am not worthy of anyone’s care…You…You saw my pain on the plane. No one else has. I think I hide it well, but your peridot eyes…they see my sins, but yet you still want to help.”

Cullen kisses her forehead, waiting for her to slap his other cheek, but Evie openly sobs now and leans into his cradling body. “Let me be _your help_ now. You don’t exactly need it because you just confirmed what I always knew about you: you are strong and brave to face people’s accusations, demands, and actions. You are independent and passionate. I know if I never moved here or we never saw one another again, my child would be in safe, loving hands. I was angry before because I missed so much. Yet, I think the actual reason is because I know you never needed me. Everything happening must chip away at what I care most about you.”

“Don’t be my enemy…Please…?” Evie asks, her flushed, swollen face turning upward. Their noses rub together.

“I won’t be, Eve…I will make this up to you. I promise…” Cullen swears. He leans over her, his whole body dying to lean down and kiss her.

Evie actually wears a slight smile similar to what she displayed while dancing and racing back to the hotel. Her bright green eyes sparkle gazing at his tear-streaked face. “Maker, I missed you…”

“I wish I could go back in time…” Cullen whispers, tucking a bit of fallen bang back into her gala hairstyle. “Forgive me…”

Evie rolled up to her tippy toes. Her soft lips crashes into Cullen’s, briefly startling the man before his body and mind realize what is happening. Once his heart alerts those wondering parts, Cullen moans, opening his mouth for her exploring tongue. That sinful mouth will also make Cullen stiffen like a teen. Evie knows how to kiss and entice. She is natural in everything she does. Her teeth nibble his scarred upper lip and pulls his lower a few times.

Cullen’s hands roam her body, her emerald dress hiding nothing. Yes, she has a slightly round stomach, but most of her is as he remembers. Her hips roll against his like a dancer, her old hobby. Her leg where the dress silts lifts and hooks over his hip and tugs him closer. How she bends her body displays her past gymnastic talents. Cullen takes the invitation and runs his callused hand down her bare thigh to where he expects her panties. He needs a new treasure to add to other one after all.

However, that wandering hand never finds a seam. Instead, he rounds her behind and grasps smooth satin skin that still haunts him every time she comes to mind. Cullen groans and breaks their kiss. “A pregnant woman not wearing underwear?”

Evie smirks up at him, her tears drying and eyes clearing the longer they kiss. “I seem to lose mine constantly…and my bump outgrew one I still own. It’s an errand I need to do tomorrow. I always seem to lose them when I’m around you.” She winks. Cullen blushes. “Besides, I didn’t want any lines in this dress. The baby was the star at the gala. I couldn’t have anything distracting people’s attention away from our child…”

_Our child…_

Cullen tingles and beams. “I can help with that search…” He perks an eyebrow.

Evie giggles, giving him that cute snort she always tries to hold in or cover up with a hand. “What? Do I look like I’m fragile doll who cannot choose maternity stuff on her own?”

Cullen quickly shakes his head, panicking he messed up their reunion. “N-n-no, I-I-I-I know you can do a-a-anything-“

“Cullen, I’m joking.” Evie sasses, rolling her bright green eyes. He took a deep inhale of air to simmer his anxiety. “However…you can help me on one thing…”

The doctor’s amber eyes brighten. “Anything…”

Evie’s slender hand glides from Cullen’s arms. She stands in her bedroom doorway, grasping her gown straps. She is about three feet from him and tugs down the straps. Agonizingly slow, Evie slips the sheer green straps from her shoulders and down her arms. The plunging neckline and deep back instantly reveals Evie’s grown bosom and olive tan skin. Her heart surgery scars contrast white against her sun-kissed skin. The gown’s stretchy fabric hugs her body as she lowers her hands and allows the dress to slide down her hips and puddle on the floor.

Nothing hinders Cullen’s vision grazing on this exquisite being so trusting and bare before him. Alcohol does not cloud his judgement now. Moonlight highlights her auburn waves and highlights her curvy feature. The two moons actually give the present roundness a shadow from where the baby seat around her hips and waist. Cullen’s mind wishes he saw her this clearly and not overly drunk in Val Royeaux. He admired her toned form before, but she only became more beautiful.

“Maker’s breath, I’ve died and met the Maker…” Cullen whimpers and bites his knuckle. 

The hungry Fereldan takes one step forward, tentative to her response. Evie just tilted her head and eyes him questionably. That is all the cue Cullen needed. He rushes Evie. He scoops her up in his flexing arms and finds her mouth. He engorges on those swollen pink lips, while his hands re-familiarize themselves on what has been beyond his reach. He feels some pregnancy changes, but overall, she is as he remembers.

“Don’t take the couch…” Evie whispers when Cullen gives her a moment to breath. Her bright green eyes sparkle. She knows he understands her meaning. “Never leave.”

Cullen lifts her enough to carry her deeper into her bedroom. His shoe finds the side of her bed first, then lays down his most important being ever. He looms over her, shaking his tuxedo coat off along with that horrific tie. The vest flutters to the floor. As he undoes the cuff clasps, he kisses her. “I hoped you would say that…”

Evie touches every part of him he exposes, while he throws and rips clothing. Josephine will kill him when he returns the tuxedo, but he does not rightly care. Maker be praised, Evie rests beneath him again. His new addiction, his child’s mother, lays in his arms.

At last the Fereldan is naked too. His hard, thick cock bounces against his chiseled stomach. Evie’s chilled left hand encircles it, lightly tugging. She directs him with the brief movements. Cullen dies for her to keep jerking, but he already so sensitive and moaning. Her flesh alone makes his hard body tingle and sing.

“Why did you not search for me if you respond so quickly to my touch?” Evie questions, her eyes growing glassy again.

Cullen kisses her lightly, mindful of her bump keeping him a few inches away. Her hand stays around his tip, while opening her legs to accommodate him. “I’m a fool…” He confesses sorrowfully. “I thought you were ashamed of what we did. It wasn’t the first time that happen to me.” He hitches as she glides his tip along her slick folds. Both adults take a long inhale, quivering in their reunion. 

Cullen will have her bare this time. She already carries his child. They have not been others after that night. It is safe. Maker, he hopes this is real.

“I should have never accused you for not doing enough. I am as guilty…”

Evie kisses his cheek, chin, jaw, and finally lips. “This could have been our morning…these last five months.”

“It’s all I’ve thought about.” Cullen rolls his hips, his cock just opening her labia as she continues her slow torture. “I live in my regrets and shames. Maker, I’ve done horrific things, Eve. Alas, nothing compares with me allowing to leave that hotel and what I hollered earlier.” He feels her centering his tip at her entrance. She is so ready for him. “Forgive me…” He hitches forward and buries himself deep in her core while kissing her hard.

Both adults holler as they slide and connect on the most intimate level. Evie bucks, her back arching as Cullen watches the initial ecstasy pour over her. Her breasts brush his pecs, her nipples hard and dark. Cullen suckles one, his hands measuring how they have grown over the last few months. It is supple and swelled that feels fantastic in his hand.

“Cullen, move…” Evie begs, rolling her fuller hips. Cullen follow the command, slowly retracting out of her, then driving back in. They both cry out at the sensation. Maker, her walls feel like heaven around him. It is ever better without a condom.

The doctor barely registers his rolls and hitches increase, chasing that fantastic feeling inside her. He hears all those Free Marcher echoes that burned his ears like their own brand of torture. Evie’s body responds perfectly like they are the same being. Cullen cannot describe the euphoria.

_Eve’s in my arms. We’re united. We’ll have a baby!_

Cullen’s entire world blanks as Evie’s orgasm hits, clamping around him. He cannot stave off his own fall any longer-

* * *

_Whack!_

Cullen’s back feels like it just got hit by a car. He can barely catch his breath because whatever happen kicked the air out of his lungs. He leans forward, coughing and cursing under his breath. Several sheets tangle around his legs. He recognizes their gunmetal grey color.

Dread sinks into Cullen’s stomach. He pushes himself off the carpet floor—not hardwood—and glances around the blank, bland white walls—no chipping bricks. Boxes litter the floor, while his tuxedo sits beneath him in a single heep, not flung everywhere in sexual desire. Crawling up onto the bed, an empty mead bottle rolls towards him. Another finished glass bottle sits on a box acting like an end stand. Sitting beside it is his smartphone, keys, and lucky silver coin he forgot to grab for the…

Cullen falls back and bounces when his naked back hits the bare mattress. He rubs his face and tugs his unkempt hair, cringing and hating everything he is. Cullen still remembers what happened last night despite still slightly drunk on mead.

Evie lives in Haven…and she’s pregnant with his child.

Evie is the daughter of House Trevelyan’s patriarch, a man who has cast her out and hunts for him.

Evie believes she will die during this pregnancy. If a miracle occurs and saves her, she assumes Cullen will take the baby away since he was a templar. The mage is terrified of him.

What did Cullen do to alleviate those fears? He called her a liar, deceitful, and cares little for the infant because she complains about her drastically changed life. Instead of compassion and support, the doctor treated her like every Maker-damn person in Thedas.

“Strike me down, Maker…” Cullen mumbles behind his hands. “Please…”

He goes to untie the sheet binding his legs to sprawl over the bare mattress. Alas, once he uncovers his crotch, Cullen grimaces and groans. He hangs his head, thinking he has not spilled from a dream in decades. He’s sixteen again after seeing his first breast in person.

Maker, that was a fantastic dream…or nightmare depending on he spins it.

The fumbling, still-intoxicated man stumbles towards the small bathroom to clean up. He craves water, but will instead snag another mead bottle from his kitchen. He stupidly cleared out the liquor mart small mead collection last night on the shameful drive home. With a few minutes, he is back to rights…and drinking again.

Cullen needs a plan. He leans against his kitchen bar, taking a long swig out of the mead bottle. He ignore the gnawing urge eating at his empty stomach. He dismisses it as dread and disgust. 

What would his parents think of him right now?

“They would just shake their heads and ask when the wedding would be…” Cullen answers himself between chugs.

Maker, his parents taught him to always take responsibility for his actions. When they gave the “birds and the bees talk”, they recognized abstinence would not protect him from STIs and pregnancy if he knew nothing about protection. They preferred him to keep civil and wait, but also knew their son was joining the military and a curious young man. His mother’s voice echoes in his hazy mind, _“If you make that choice, you must own the consequences. Respect your partner’s wishes, but if she keeps a happy accident baby, you **will** marry her or so help me I’ll flock you!”_

Just another fuck up from last night.

Not only did Cullen criticize Evie’s choices and actions while be a moronic hypocrite, Cullen never expressed his knowledge and contributions to her being pregnant. 

“I have to right this…” Cullen declares, amber eyes wide staring at the kitchen tile. He chugs the mead again, tasting the orange blossom and bits of spice that reminds him of Evie’s fantastic smell. He is really rubbing salt into the wound. He deserves it. “I got to propose-“

Cullen stomps to his bedroom. He will get dressed and call an Uber. He will knock, beg on his knees, and then propose. Good plan.

The doctor already called and took a personal day when he got home last night. So, work will not bother him technically when he cleans up his mistakes. He has all day to convince Evie he was not right in the mind last night and confess his own contributions and desires. Good plan.

Cullen snags his favorite t-shirt and flings it on. He only has jeans clean, but Isabella once said they gave him a great arse, so maybe that will benefit him somehow. His hair looks like a humidity bomb went off. The sloshed man pats it down. If she sees him a frazzled mess, maybe she will know their fight led to a fitful night drinking, banging his head against the wall, and sex dreams of what he should have done. Good plan.

However, one brain cell not pickled on fermented honey and did not act like a raging arse last night stops him right before dialing the car service. His eyes land on his lucky silver coin he stupidly forgot leaving the house last night. A silly part of him wonders if he would have been such a bastard if he had his coin. Still, luck still reunited him with Evie without it.

To only lose her again.

Thus why that one brain cell keeps him from dialing for a ride. It is a meek voice over the drunken push to take responsibility. That one brain cell—he will name it Burt because he is sloshed as fuck—reminds Cullen of everything he knows about Evie. She is an independent, rational woman who exhibits every sign that she used and mistreated her entire life. How will a short-temper inferno mage who already loathes him react to his marriage proposal? What will she do as her response?

That woman will flash-boil Cullen until he explodes.

“Different plan.” The ex-templar squeaks, glancing down at his smartphone. Through a drunken cloud, one text alert blinks. He taps it, only reading the name. The message was wondering about a patient that she recommended to his recovery facility.

 _She_ will know what to do.

Cullen taps her contact information and dials the number.

_“Pentaghast.”_

“Cass…I fucked up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really wanted to write this one-shot after finishing editing Chapter 7. I was EXTREMELY depressed with what I did to Evie and Cullen and wanted to do something for them and you all. I think is what you all likely wanted to happen. You all deserve some smut and drunken silliness, while getting into Cullen's brain on how he feels after everything he has done.
> 
> If you like this type of side story information, let me know in the comments! XD!


	2. Dorian:  The Best Friend Test

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this week's installment got away from me. I really enjoy writing Dorian. I have a friend like him. Every time I need cheering up, I call my friend and spend the whole conversation laughing. Dorian loves the people around him, while always cautious and nervous to be himself. That's why Evie, Cullen, and he work so well together. Three kindred spirits who fear being themselves and just need acceptance.
> 
> Chapter Song: “Dark of the Matinée” by Franz Ferdinand

Dorian Pavus does not have many friends. It is not because he difficult or cruel. No, living in Tevinter makes him wonder about people’s intentions to build a relationship. They scheme and backstab like the Orlesians, but use their twisted magic to complete their misdeeds. 

After what his parents did, Dorian’s faith in people evaporated. When your own parents planned to send you to a sex conversion therapy and use blood magic medicine to change your sexuality, one loses trust and belief in everyone. For crying out loud, they were Dorian’s parents, people who gave him life and vowed to love him unconditionally.

The Tevinter mage waves off the thoughts twirling his head like little gems. He focuses on the positive, the few people who have embraced him since he left his home country. These people are his family now, his most cherished friends. They show him daily they accept him and cared about no matter who he is and how he acts. The repeatedly state he deserves love.

So, when one beloved friends finds herself with a problem, Dorian jumps and will do anything to bring back that majestic smile. Evie will always be Dorian’s partner-in-crime. After all, she was his Best Woman at his beach wedding. He misses their drunk night watching terrible movies or going to clubs and critiquing people’s fashion and dancing styles. The woman introduce him to amazing scientists that offered him a career and an escape from persecution. Evie knew the Bull’s Chargers from her father hiring the private-eye group for Orlesian business missions. Dorian thanks her for introducing him to the love of his life, someone he could never be with if he stayed in the Imperium.

Evie Trevelyan will always be Dorian’s sister and best friend. The friends stand by each other when confronting family and other idiots. They share their darkest secrets and fears knowing the other will not judge or break confidence. They laugh and tease one another so much that people assume they are dating. How many mutual contacts told him congratulations, believing Evie’s baby is his?

Evie’s baby.

Dorian wrinkles his nose, watching the elevator blink each floor button rising higher up the Theirin Foundation’s downtown skyscraper. His hand twists his waxed moustache, his sneaky mind reviewing the current plan. He must be delicate, but firm to get this ball going. The Tevinter scientist knows how to handle Evie, but this Cullen…

…a full week in Rivain. Beautiful white sandy beaches. Humid, tropical sunshine. Spicy food and fantastic wine vintages. Iron Bull and Dorian chilling without a care in the world…

Dorian glances out the elevator glass window. All he observes is dreary, bland, and icy snow covering everything. “Ugh, _Ferelden…_ ” He mumbles as the doors slide open. “Out of all the Thedosian countries, the Foundation chooses _Barbarismlandia…_ ” He sticks out his tongue and rolls his grey eyes. He waltzes out of the elevator. “Varric better pay up.”

All eyes followed Evie and the new Dr. Cullen Rutherford at the gala. Whoever stepped into that side room felt that heavy tension. Everyone present knew Evie’s fainting meant more. Iron Bull stood guard, but still read the situation perfectly. _“He’s the father.”_ Dorian’s husband stated with confidence. _“How do you know?”_ The Tevinter replied while they drove home. His husband names off many behavior cues and phrases that only Iron Bull, a former Ben-Hassrath, would notice. 

Dorian knew the fine Fereldan doctor was the father as soon as Cassandra brought him to their little powwow. Dorian always keeps an eye out for handsome men. Bull’s single eye also noticed the handsome man with broad shoulders and a chiseled jaw. Bull and he enjoys rating men while having dinner. They make each other jealous and wound up they race home and have sex until morning. Both men appreciate men with scars, especially one on a sexy upper lip.

Now where else has Dorian heard of a Fereldan hunk with a lip scar…?

Oh, Evie has _fabulous_ taste in men. Their child will rival Dorian’s majestic beauty. Girl or boy, this child will beat everyone off with sticks.

By the time Evie waddled out of the side room for the bathroom, Dorian, Iron Bull, and _Varric_ knew Cullen Rutherford impregnated Evie. Although, Dorian did not know Varric connected the dots until Monday when Evie cancelled work. The altus spent Sunday calming the woman, who think she deserves to die. She numbered off all her offenses and how Cullen accused her for everything. Dorian drank so much during the whole discussion he came to work terribly hungover.

Varric noticed immediately. 

“Monkey okay?” The dwarf asked, knowing Dorian drinks on behalf of Evie when they hang out.

Dorian promised to keep everything secret, but he could barely keep his mouth shut now. He told Bull everything because his husband will give nothing away. Varric will not.

“Yes, her heart is fine. Just resting.” Dorian partially lied. He phrased everything to be vague and reference her fainting spell.

“I hope Curly and she talked things out.” Varric remarked, walking out of the parking lot and into the Inquisition Institute.

Dorian resisted his brow perking. He knew the millionaire watched him from the corner of his hazel eyes. “The doctor made sure she was stable before he left. She kicked him out, pissed that everyone keeps baby her.” That was all complete lies. The opposite happened.

Varric exhaled and scratched his temple. “Curly might have served Meredith, but he cares. He’ll be excellent support with the baby.” The dwarf continued, his Kirkwall accent relaxed. 

His boss kept trying to trip up Dorian. Pfft! The mage grew up in Qarius and Minrathous! He learned these words games before kindergarten!

Dorian pretended to look confused. “He’s a lyrium doctor, not an OBGYN. Besides, Dr. Wynne is the best high-risk obstetrician in Haven. Evie likes her.”

Varric stepped in front of Dorian. “Save it, Sparkler. Curly’s the father.” The director dropped the word game and just dropped the bomb. He must have a meeting in a few minutes or the game would go on all day.

“How to you assume that?!” Dorian exclaimed, faking shock.

The Kirkwall native smirked like when he plays Wicked Grace. “Mainly a hunch, but I know a steamy romance when I see one. Brilliant plot, actually. I wrote three chapters yesterday alone. My publisher loves it.”

“If you’re referring to your _terrible_ romance novels, you know jack poop.”

Varric busted out laughing. “Look, Curly and Monkey are open books. Monkey was awake once Cullen set her down on the sofa. Her eyes twitched towards everyone’s voices, but always fluttered when Curly spoke. It wasn’t a ‘who’s this’ twitch, but a ‘oh crap, that’s him’ response. Curly had a blinking neon sign over his head that screams ‘Well, shit. I should have been more careful.’ Besides, your precise phrasing here just confirmed everything.” Varric patted Dorian’s elbow before walking again. “Don’t worry. I won’t say nothing until they do. From your unkempt hungover state, you spent your Sunday comforting Monkey, thus meaning Curly and Monkey buggered up their reunion conversation. I figured they would. My question to you is what will we do about it, hm? We can’t leave things like this, right?” Varric perked a strawberry blond brow, wickedly grinning like a cartoon villain.

Dorian glances around the floor, noticing all the medical personnel walking around between offices and secretary stations. Varric’s questions spawned a dare. Dorian resisted it as best as possible. However, the Tevinter complained about the bitter cold and mentioned wishing for a nice, hot vacation. Varric reminded his scientist he never got to use his unused beach house with a private coastline yet. Minutes later, some directory searching and a finalizing betting handshake lands Dorian here about to poke into a precarious situation.

Anything for Evie.

Dorian knows which office he needs, but he follows the floor’s rules and introduces himself to the lobby receptionist, a young man named Jim. He acts like the good doctor is expecting him so Jim will not call back and let the handsome Fereldan know the last person he wants to meet just arrived. His charms and teasing quickly confirms Cullen Rutherford is in and available. This Jim never registers Dorian should not be there. Dorian concludes the young man is a few fries short of a happy meal. His dead cat Princess is more aware than this receptionist.

Okay, what does the Tevinter mage want to accomplish with this enlightening conversation? First, who the bloody heck is Cullen Rutherford? Currently, Dorian knows Evie’s crazy drunk experience in Orlais and an emotional roller coaster fight after the gala. Several points his distant cousin discussed conflicted with one another. One specifically nags the mage: the doctor repeatedly asked consent before, during, and after sex, then he just hollered blunt accusations the gala night that she used him and lied. Those two sides just make little sense. Either Evie exaggerated or missed a vital clue.

Dorian did some digging before this impromptu visit. First, the Theirin Foundation sent an introductory e-mail announcing the new lyrium recovery division headed by Cullen. Attached to the exposé included the head director’s curriculum vitae. Dorian read Cullen spent two tours fighting the Imperium and served under the infamous Meredith Stennard. That explained the man’s growl when initially meeting Dorian. It also explained some of his words he spat at Evie. 

Furthermore, Dorian called his old research colleague, Felix Alexius. His father was Dorian’s mentor in graduate school until Gereon Alexius jumped into the koolaid and joined the Venatori. Cullen Rutherford is a household name in the Imperium for his battle prowess, strategy, and nullification abilities. When a templar, the Venatori ran when they heard his war cries during ambushes, thus his etiquette ‘Lion of Ferelden.’ His silences crippled the mages instantly. Rumor has it one silence and purge actually killed a magister named Livius Erimond!

Mental note to self: don’t poke the lion lest Dorian wants to spend the day without his magic. Lyrium or not, the man will terrify any mage. Although, he must ask Evie later if that lion roar applies to the bedroom. _Hot!_

The Tevinter mage acts causal, tipping his head and smirking when he passes someone. He feels many people present still have a low amount of lyrium in their bodies based on their unique hums. Most medical personnel give him a second glance like a Venatori spy just entered their facility. He just waves to his Inquisition Institute key card on his belt and his visitor pass. It does little to assuage them. Mostly ex-templars give him the prejudice suspicious looks, just like his intended doctor at the gala. They all must have fought his country’s terrorists. Racism still swirls here like a toilet overflowing. The south’s Chantry really enjoys villainizing the Imperium. It makes Dorian’s life a nightmare, but he takes it in stride…then drowns the anguish in wine bottles.

Just as long as this Fereldan ex-templar does not let his bias show again.

At last, Dorian reaches the office door. The door is open. He hears a familiar baritone mumbling to himself…then an office phone return to its cradle. Hopefully, that is not Jim giving the ex-templar a head’s up. The altus adjusts his grey three-piece suit, summons a spell to make sure his hair and moustache are meticulous, and take a big turning step into the office.

“Ah, Dr. Rutherford! Dr. Dorian Pavus-Bull of the Inquisition Institute, we met at the Charity Gala last Saturday, hm?” Dorian declares in a chipper tune, right hand out and ready to shake the doctor’s hand.

A tight brow appears behind a large hand as Cullen lowers his hand from his nose. Two red marks appear on either side of his bridge where he pinched. His whiskey eyes glare up at Dorian, while blue and black bags hang under his eyes. He leans back in his leather desk chair like he will fall asleep in seconds.

Dorian knows a hangover migraine when he sees one.

The mage slows his step until he reaches the front of the doctor’s desk, hand still ready for a shake. He will simmer the enthusiasm down a tad. If Dorian wants to know this man, he must allow him to stay for a few minutes.

A brief panic flicks across those honey brown eyes before he shutters the thoughts. The doctor barely rises from his seat, groaning under his breath from popping joints. “Dr. Pavus-Bull, yes, I remember you well.” His rough hand grips Dorian and shakes twice. Firm grip, but not one of those macho types that squeezes more than necessary. According to shaking etiquette, he is strongly confident, reasonable, and disciplined.

Then what happened Saturday night?

“I wasn’t aware we had an appointment.” That baritone grunts as Cullen waves to the visitor seats. He sits back down, rolling his leather chair closer to his organized desk. Dorian can tell he fights something internally, likely both his migraine and whatever typical Tevinter prejudice the southern Chantry ingrains in the population.

“We don’t, but I won’t keep you long.” Dorian smiles, taking a seat. His grey orbs flick around the office, observing the plain room. Strange, a huge square animal bed? Dorian glances around for the beast. Nothing pops out to eat him alive. “I was in the area between the Institute and visiting my colleagues at the Foundation. We met before and did not get to speak.” He waves around him. “So, here I am.”

“Yes…” Cullen eyes Dorian, likely knowing _exactly_ why he is there. Surely, this Fereldan brute does not know about him _that_ well to suspect otherwise. “I got the impression Miss Trevelyan mean greatly to you. You cared deeply about her care and knew her needs instantly.”

“Yes, my cousin is like the sister I never had, but I thank daily she was not born to my parents. I barely handle her father who _gave_ her life. Alas, the man is still leagues ahead of my own parents in the kindness and love department.” Dorian tests how much Cullen knows and notifying his own knowledge. The altus is a word smith rarely bested. 

Dorian’s nose wrinkles. Varric is an outlier. Blasted man is a Wicked Grace cheat.

“What I know about her father, you statement says a great deal.” Cullen mumbles low. Ah, so Bann Ian’s activities throughout the Free Marches reached him at some point. That explains his negative opinions about House Trevelyan. He likely wrongly correlated Evie with her House, which is like comparing apples to moon rocks. 

Cullen rubs his neck and frowns. “I hope Miss Trevelyan is well?” There is a raspiness in the question. His amber eyes glimmer as he swallows hard.

 _Eating some crow, Doctor?_ Dorian wonders. “I saw her Sunday briefly. I’m relieved she got home safely after her fainting spell.”

Cullen’s scarred lip jumps twice. His left hand fists his arm rest. “It seems her pregnancy hasn’t been a joyous occasion.” He comments, while combing his hand through his pomaded blonde waves.

“No, but we all know she can handle whatever life throws her.” Dorian retorts with pride. “The question is if further issues may come her way?” His drilling grey eyes spark as he flashes a bit of mana. Outside the office, several ex-templar stop walking, likely sensing the strange magic.

“I pray nothing will.” Cullen takes a deep breath, controlling a full body shudder. Oh yes, this man quivers about magic. It is surprising he enjoys mage bed mates. His whiskey eyes stare at his desk. “People might…misinterpret points about someone like her to only realize too late the opposite. Pasts discolor people’s perceptions. Even after years of conditioning, when backed into a corner and stress, old prejudices and misconceptions arise as a defense. I tell my patients that often. They will reach for anything to stay standing, not registering their words and actions cut horrifically until reflecting and raking themselves over the coals. We are our wounds, Dr. Pavus-Bull.”

Dorian slightly frowns. Cullen’s last sentence says it all. Oh, how right he is. Dorian relates with that well. They feel like kindred spirits. The more Dorian sits there, the more he knows why Evie slept with him. If Dorian relates to the doctor, Evie and he must be soulmates.

Furthermore, the man is not dense. He knows Dorian likely knows what happened. He puts forth an invitation to Dorian, anything to resolve the matter. He is not a man whose pride is not easily wounded and knows when to seek help. His whiskey eyes call that he can be stubborn and gruff, but unreasonable. He openly says he knows he screwed up and regrets his actions. A very Fereldan way of handling matters. This countries prefers things to be out in the open, so this little tit-for-tat likely annoys him.

Dorian grimaces, tilting his head. “That’s true for both sides.” Evie acts likes this man too. She too is at fault with her short-temper and mistrusting ways.

Cullen exhales and massages his neck. “It just keeps happening to some, while others keeps hearing the blunt when they should be treated tenderly.”

The Tevinter nods. “True, but it’s what happens afterwards to amend those wrongs that matter. The person who heard that nonsense sometimes doesn’t realize the other person has faults and just accepts she is always a problem.”

“Eve did nothing wrong.” Cullen states flatly, his shoulders slouching. “We both walked into that conversation with misunderstandings and assumptions. We both believed one deceived the other. I only acted on it, while she rightly defended herself. I know I was in the wrong and own it.”

No more subterfuge. “I figured that was the case, thus why I am here. I’m love my best friend dearly and will do almost anything to see her smile.” 

Dorian smirks, studying this blond doctor closely. “You seem like a nice enough man. Evie has great judgement. Even drunk, she would avoid sleeping with you if she felt a little off. I’ve watched her mind blast someone across a club just saying something she disliked.”

“I expected that Saturday.” Cullen cracks his neck and blows out his cheeks.

“No, you matter to her. Is it because you’re the father or how you impressed her before? I don’t know.” Dorian shrugs. “What I do know is that there’s definitely more going on, but she stubbornly thinks it’s all her fault.”

Cullen shakes his head. “I’m as much at fault too. What I yelled that night had nothing to do with Evie. I know things that I need to confess, but I remained speechless, while my old templar persona acted instead. We both could have handled that argument better. The last few days…I’m been digesting what happened…and the fact I conceived a child.”

“A stressful fact for any person, especially for a man who just moved to a new city.”

Cullen nods quickly, and eyes widens. “You have no idea. It’s like playing 3D chess on an old-fashion fainted wooden board.”

Dorian perks an eyebrow. “A chess player? A man after my own heart.”

The doctor blushes a little and purses his lips. “I haven’t played in decades…since I left for basic training. Chess isn’t most templars’ forte. I’m very rusty. I know if I challenged my sister Mia, she would toilet swirly me like a mop.”

The Tevinter laughs openly, liking this man more each second. Oh, he is amazing! No wonder Evie jumped in bed with him. “If you wish to sharpen your skills, I will your challenger. My husband plays chess _in his mind_ , a little too much for me.”

Cullen thumbs towards an office wall. “That sounds like my dream psychiatrist, Dr. Solas Fen’Harel. I wonder if he plays in the Fade with spirits. I might take you up on that offer…if I can maneuver myself into Eve’s graces…Right now, I’m a pawn trapped but a queen, bishop, and knight.” He rubs his neck, likely a nervous tick. “Any suggestions to do that?”

Dorian beams and crosses his legs. A man willing to rectify wrongs. Oh, if Dorian was not already married…No, he will never steal away his cousin’s man. Now, to have her detail that passionate night…

“Now _why_ would you ask little ole me?”

Those amber eyes just stare at him. “Someone informed me you know more than you let on.”

“Oh, it’s like I’m back home: everyone knows everyone else’s secret, but they all wait to see who will summon a demon first.” Dorian sings, receiving a glare from Cullen. “What are you doing currently, My Handsome Beau?”

Cullen’s blush deepens with the tease. “I…U-u-um, waiting for her to contact me because I know if I push I will end up an ash pile.”

“Wise man.” Dorian laughs and nods. Yup, he knows Evie well…at least how to make her smoke. “Good Sir, does she have a _way_ to contact you?”

Cullen waves to his work phone. “My information is on the directory.”

Dorian rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “Mr. Dense Barbarian, is this something that should be discussed _at work?”_

The doctor freeze, grimacing. Another neck massage. “Good point. Eve mentioned she never called around Kirkwall to check which doctor was me…” Cullen slaps his forehead. “Maker’s breath…I would prefer a minefield over this right now.”

Dorian snatches one of Cullen’s business cards out its cradle and flips it towards the doctor. “I’m willing to transport this vital information, Soldier Boy.”

Cullen eyes Dorian suspiciously before snagging the card. “I suppose…”

The Tevinter altus holds up his hands. “I will not taint this information. Honest.” He will add it to his cellphone contacts to text this fine man often though. Dorian enjoys teasing him and giving new nicknames. This man blushes like a noble maiden at her first BDSM dungeon. “That’s a start, but what else do you have in mind?”

“I’m supposed to have dinner with her brother Rian and his wife, Cassandra, tonight.” Cullen declares like they put him in front of a firing squad.

“It was nice knowing you.” Dorian waves goodbye. “Hopefully, Rian will make it quick.”

Ah, so Cassandra is the point of contact. Dorian should have known the seeker was a personal friend. The two frown like they compete on who can scowl more before making a baby cry. It explains why Rian quickly shifted attention from Varric to the recent arrival and willingly introduced Cullen and Evie at the gala.

Cullen blows out of his cheeks and pinches his nasal bridge. “Yes…I know. Any advice?”

“Be honest. Rian smells both fear and bullshit.”

The ex-templar nods, amber orbs wide and fill with terror. “So a templar at heart.” Those glimmering eyes flick to Dorian. “I’m surprised you aren’t electrocuting me.”

Dorian smiles and shrugs, beaming. “I know a soul who has been raking himself off the coals when I see one.” He sneers. “Until such soul repeats his idiocy. Expect a reanimated horse head in your bed before a horrific _death_.”

“Duly noted.” The doctor frowns, nods quickly, and then pinches his nose. He takes a few settling breaths. “Will she ever talk to me again? Or am I waiting for nothing?”

Dorian stands, knowing all he needs now. Cullen is exactly what he imagined him based on Evie’s discussions. He is a man with his own troubles that haunt him daily. He irregularly acted out during a stressful time and regrets his choices. Now, he will make amends and learn about the woman he brought to his bed. Evie does the same exact thing. They both think and act alike. 

“Oh, I think you’re on the right path. You just need some outside help.” The altus winks. Cullen’s eyes widen. “Nothing intrusive. This is all about Evie and you. My cousin is stubborn. She’ll just need a _nudge_ at the precise time.” Dorian waves, then gestures to the exit. “Good luck with dinner. If you survive that means the Trevelyans will make the death look like an accident.”

Cullen mutters, “Jeeze, thanks.” He offers his hand. 

Dorian shakes happily. “Do pull yourself up, though. Hangover migraines ruin that pale complexation she finds so charming.”

“I don’t plan on drinking five bottles of mead again.”

Dorian perks a brow. They drank that at Sera’s place. Sentimental, this one. Definitely an exponential improvement over Evie’s former wasteful beaus. “Wise choice. Maybe when this blows over, we can have an interesting conversation over chess.” He chuckles while walking to the door. “Just one tidbit to buzz in your ear…” Dorian sings, pivoting on his expensive dress shoes.

“I’ll take anything right now.” Cullen begs with worried eyes.

“Discover her favorite flower.” Dorian winks, smirks, then waves as he walks down the hall. He cannot help himself. Teasing this man will be a joy. “Good day, _Dr. Avvar God_!”

A baritone grumbles as Cullen flops down. “Maker’s breath…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dorian and Cullen goodness with a bit of Varric! All of them are a joy to write.
> 
> Enjoying these supplementals? Let me know in the comments! I'll work on their lengths. I promise. It's just so fun! XD!
> 
> Thank you all for reading! Be happy!


	3. Varric:  Office Activities

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey Everyone! This snippet fits between Chapters 11 and 12 in the main story. I actually kept this one below 2k works. A miracle! Enjoy!
> 
> Chapter Song: "Baby Seat" by Barenaked Ladies
> 
> Slightly NSFW! Office lunch discussion somehow wander into sex lives at the Inquisition Institute. Slightly NSFW!

Varric glances down at his desktop clock. Ten after one, which means Monkey is safely at her ultrasound appointment and will not walk into the break room unexpectedly. He thought about having this get-together when she taught at the university. However, Monkey pops in at work saying her students had an exam or major lab assignment due so she cancelled class. No, Varric waited until now before springing his newest endeavor.

The millionaire dwarf and office bookie snatches his famous black book—no, the other one—and takes a leisurely stroll towards the Institute’s primary break room. Each department has their own, but they will fill only one at this time of day. The lyrium labs always run late on Thursdays. Their weekly experiments on slow growth red lyrium always extends past noon. Varric already collected the necessary data—and money—from the other departments. Monkey rarely travels outside her department nowadays because the lengthy walks make her feet blow up like water balloons. Thus why Varric collected the others’ information so quickly.

“Good afternoon, Ladies and Gentlemen…” Varric sings, entering the break room. As predicted, almost everyone from the lyrium labs sit around three tables. Some give their facilities manager a wave. Others like Sparkler and Ice Pick trade looks and pull out their wallets.

Varric wanders over to the Antivan espresso coffee Seleem Adaar—Ice Pick—makes every day to keep everyone going until five. On Thursdays, she doubles the amount, always leaving Monkey whining she cannot have that much coffee and caffeine while pregnant. He pours himself a small shot and takes the hit, a burst of energy until he can make it to his favorite bar, The Singing Maiden, after work.

“Anything interesting today?” The dwarf asks. while leaning against the counter watching his researchers eat.

Dagna just giggles, already knowing what this is about. Ice Pick just blinks, glancing over her shoulder. “Spit it out now, Varric. Josie already gave me her bet.” The researcher waves her currency. Like a well-oiled dwarven machine, the other scientists pull out their funds and purses. Arguments break out over dates and sexes, while others discuss the more under the table wages.

Varric just shrugs. He grabs an empty chair and stands on top. “Ladies and Gentlemen, let us begin the Lyrium Labs Trevelyan-Rutherford Baby Betting Pool. We’re logging date, sex, length, and weight. Entry is twenty sovereigns. One per person. Pool is currently two-thousand eight-hundred and forty. That does not count the Theirin Foundation’s bets. I’ll let you know via computer chat later if someone already snagged your details. I’ll log your predictions and send them to Ruffles for safe keeping so not to have an unfair advantage. Ice Pick, don’t announce she’s playing when she is the neutral party.”

“Oh, come come, Varric.” Dorian waves with his money. “We all know our dear Josie plays. She and that dimwit receptionist Jim seem to scalp our money lately. Apparently, working with that fine blonde doctor gives them an advantage.”

“You saying this baby will be like Cullen?” Seleem questions her coworker as several other lab rats rush Varric with bets and money. They each have straps of paper with their predictions.

“I say this baby will have each parent’s beauty that will rival mine.” The Tevinter altus proclaims while sipping his tea.

“You predict a girl?” Seleem quizzes surprises.

“Isn’t that what you voted for?”

The Qunari ice mage reads him well after a year. “Oh no, you crafty man. I’m not telling you anything.”

“No matter.” Dorian waves like someone farted. “I know I’ll win this pool. I’m been around since the beginning.”

“But don’t know an ultrasound from your arse.” Melsi Cadash remarks sliding into an empty chair at their table. “You _think_ you know what that ultrasound projected, but you can’t be sure if those legs was a pecker or not.”

Dorian’s moustache lip twitches a few times. “I went to medical school. I hope I know a cock.”

“My hubby’s cock will surprise you.” Melsi wiggles her eyebrows.

“If you can find it under all that beard.” Seleem huffs to herself. “Blackwall still working at ER delivery?”

“Damn straight.” Melsi defends her husband. “The man can implant babies in me and deliver them with one hand behind his back. That’s why I know I got my numbers right.”

“You all done after _six_ children?” Dorian quips, studying the small dwarf that has carried more children than any woman he knows.

“Nah. The more the merrier. Thom ‘Blackwall’ Reiner’s seed shall spread _everywhere_.”

“Please keep it off the tables. I eat here.” Seleem retorts, batting a few crumbs off the table from her sandwich.

“Jealous?”

The Qunari woman eyes her coworker. “That’s what strap-ons are for…” She winks.

“Why can’t this department have a single lunch without diverging into sex?” The department’s Dalish liaison, Adelheid Lavellan, quizzes breaking her usual silent judging. “My new boyfriend Solas doesn’t believe me that this is graduate school all over again? He expects this place to be an academic enlightenment.”

Melsi blinks and busts out laughing. “For a man that looks like a polished penis, he should be used to this!”

“You understand why I gave him my number.” Adelheid smirks and leans back in her seat. Seleem rolls her blue eyes, while Melsi falls out of her chair laughing so hard.

Dorian rolls his grey eyes and stands. “While you all debate lesbian versus lumberjack sex and if our new Dalish expert’s boy toy is an elf-size dong, I’ll be making my bets.”

“If you saw Blackwall’s package, you would be on my side.” Cadash laughs as Dorian gets up.

“Nothing can beat my husband’s Qunari sausage. Envy me.” The Tevinter waves with a pride smirk.

“I should buy stock in lube because of those two…” Adelheid remarks, sending the others present into laughter again.

Varric expects Sparkler, smiling as Monkey’s best friend approaches his seat. “So what will it be?”

“Here is forty for both Iron Bull and me with our stats.” Dorians leans down towards Varric’s ear. “Where’s the key?”

Varric huffs and reaches into his pocket. “Don’t trash the place. I want to bring my lady friend there next month.”

Dorian snatches the keys out of his boss’ hand. “Then buy a new bed. Iron Bull isn’t kind, especially when it is on someone else’s tab. I plan to come back limping and satisfied.”

“Keep your sex swing shat to a minimum.” Varric grumbles as he presents his Rivain summer house key to his lead scientist.

“Of course. If I didn’t love my cousin so much, I would invite her new beau with us.” Dorian leans down and whispers into Varric’s ear. “What is money entry into the _other_ betting pool?”

“One-hundred sovereigns entry and five-hundred more for additional chances.” The facilities manager proclaims, pulling out another betting book.

“Five-hundred!?”

“Monkey demanded some extra cash for charities after what I pulled at the gala. It’s insurance to keep her from fire-storming my office.”

“You take check?”

Varric laughs and waves for the deposit. “For a man who loves her like a sister, you’re willing to bet _big_ on this.”

Dorian scowls at his employer. “Out of anyone, that woman deserves a wonderful lay. Here is Iron Bull and I’s bets.”

“One month only?” Varric proclaims reading Dorian’s prediction on a separate sheet from the baby prediction. “Isn’t that quite soon after Curly and Monkey met again? I thought they were taking things slow.”

“I would have said that same night if Cullen hadn’t been such an templar wiener. Furthermore, you should start a wedding poll too.”

Varric perks a strawberry blond eyebrow. “Oh?”

Dorians smirks proudly. “You think this kid will not be born without married parents? They’ll be in love before they fall into bed.”

Varric eyes his scientist. “Put your money where your mouth it. Triple it.”

Dorian tears off his check. “And you’ve been wondering why I skipped the last poll. The Bull is so sure he’ll double it. They’ll be married before this kid comes. Pay up, Varric.”

“Ha! We’ll see!” Varric taunts, snatching the check made out to a special personal account Varric’s bank buddy established for his bookie dealings. Josephine Montilyet manages it and finds the best interest rates for everyone. It might as well be everyone’s extra 401K from how Josephine invests the interest. “King already beat you. That specific enterprise is on the _very_ down low because the Seeker will hang me by my pubes if she finds out. We allow no one in that without Queenie’s approval.”

Dorian grimaces. “Astrid ruins even the most basic bets. Fine. A month before they screw again. Double or nothing.”

“Deal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So anyone have any idea when this baby will be born? Sex? Or maybe when Evie and Cullen will fall into bed again? Let me know in the comments. (Note: Val Royeaux was in Harvestmere/October). XD!


	4. Cassandra:  Protector

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one came to me last night. I love writing Cassandra and Rian. A little insight to Rian's protective side.
> 
> Chapter Song: "New Ground" by Cyrus Reynolds (You can find this song on the "Passing Ships" Playlist on [Spotify](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7iOINwiJrvl7fKiwhTpBJE?si=lP6nuiqOQKyevktlGnFEVg) and [YouTube](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLw4onCkm8zQYR-1aDuwe1kfgbL40DY9CD).)
> 
> Takes places between Chapters 18 and 19 of ["Passing Ships"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23895865).

Cassandra barely lowers her hardcover _Swords & Shields_ when her new husband lumbers through the front door. The eldest Trevelyan looks exhausted with his tie pulled off and his collar button undone. The man never enjoys appearing unkempt, a templar to the core. He shoved his suit jacket into his laptop bag. He will regret later removing wrinkles. He groans, rolling his carry-on against the penthouse wall so he can close the front door.

“Welcome home.” The Navarran calls from her favorite reading chair. Haven’s heavenly city lights through the floor-length balcony wall gives her just enough light to read. She lights a single candle to give her the right ambiance reading her sexy tales. She slips her bookmark into place and closes her book. She mentally notes which scene she was reading. She read the book ten times, so nothing is surprising anymore, but hates not finishing a chapter. “How was the flight?”

Rian grumbles again, kicking off his scuffed dress shoes by the door. He will put them in the master closet later. The man cannot fall asleep unless everything is in its rightful place, like his former drill sergeant will appear and punish him. “Long. Thankfully, I won’t need to take it for a while.”

Cassandra purses her lips, wondering if his business trip went as badly as they both feared. “He threw you out.”

“Not exactly…” Rian sighs, slowly unbuttoning his white dress shirt and meandering to the leather love seat.

Cassandra untangles herself from her comfort armchair and knitted blanket. She grasps her empty wineglass, patters over to the kitchen island, and pour him and herself more merlot. Rian likely needs something refreshing after his troublesome business dealings. “Maybe not physically out like Evelyn, but out of the business operations?”

Rian watches his new wife pour his drink while tapping on his smartphone. A soft mellow music pops on the surround sound system. He definitely needs relaxation. Good thing Cassandra itches to perform her new martial activities. “No, he still needs me.”

Cassandra grunts and turns towards the loveseat. She hands Rian his glass, then curls up beside him. Her head barely rests on his shoulder before he runs his free hand through her short pixie hair. If anyone else, she would break their arm. No one touches her without she gives leave. Rian knows she gave leave by resting beside him. They speak via behavior and brief movements. Words are unnecessary unless it is poetry. When they spar at the gym, it is the same thing. They watch and analyze until they find a weakness. They challenge with a step or hand flick. Words cloud the air, while touch and movement says it all. Cassandra learned that quickly the first time Rian and she danced the foxtrot.

Rian knows Cassandra speaks with movement, words always filled with venom because she gets frustrated with the world, especially after a major court case. She appreciates she need not speak about everything with him. Meanwhile, Rian might know exactly what to say, but struggles to show intent. Everyone just sees the heir of Trevelyan Enterprises and future Bann of Ostwick. While Rian recognizes his role, he would rather be a lonely templar who rose through ranks on his own accord and not family influence. He wants his behavior to speak for him. 

Like this business trip.

“…Child of the dark, he can out leap the sun,  
His being single, and that being all:  
The right thing happens to the happy man.  
  
Or he sits still, a solid figure when  
The self-destructive shake the common wall;  
Takes to himself what mystery he can…”[1]

Cassandra hums, understanding what Rian is trying to say. He chooses his favorite verses to explain events when he struggles on how to express what happened. She loves it. His bass voice bellows the words with such passion and heartache that it moves her to tears, surprising to anyone who knows her tough exterior. When he reads Emily Dickinson…Maker, Cassandra cannot contain the emotions rolling through her soul. She rarely cries, and this man will only allow tears of joy.

“I never spoke against Uncle Ian.” Rian whispers after a few minutes allowing Enigma fill the air while they appreciated one another’s presence again. “I argued with my father that night Mother and he died. I didn’t want to go to the campaign rally, but Father exclaimed I was getting a front-row seat to democracy in practice. If the protective services just listened when I said some fluid laid under the car. They thought it was me complaining again. Father threw up his hands and just told me to get in the vehicle and never question his requests. I grumbled in the backseat, quiet and gripping the door in anger. No one was aware like I was when the brakes gave out around that corner…”

Cassandra knows the story well and understands why Rian tells it aloud when he debates if he has done the right thing. She feels the same guilt and sorrow when she thinks about her brother Anthony, who mages stabbed him for not helping them get dragon blood from family vaults. Her parents died by her dictator grandfather’s hand when she was just a toddler. The two orphans’ calls brought the man and woman together in love and understanding.

“…When no one else survived the assassination, I vowed I would listen to every adult and no resist. I absorbed Uncle Ian’s lessons. The man gave me a home and family, what I thought I did not deserve after how I spoke to Father. I listened to my Chantry relatives and templar officers on how I should join and be the best templar knight possible. I only started questioning when they wanted me to commit terrible things to Evelyn, the one person I vowed to protect when she land in that NICU, born too soon.”

Rian exhales and rubs his face. “Uncle Ian told me that hospital day to protect her. I just remember my horror and surprise, such a fragile tiny baby with so many tubes and machines around her. She was weak and struggled to live. Ian told me I did everything possible to protect my parents that night. It was not at fault. ‘Use that protective intuition to guard Evelyn, Rian’ Ian requested.” His shimmering grey eyes flick to Cassandra, who studies his defeated, conflicting face. “I thought I was doing the right thing…what everyone I admire requested of me.”

Cassandra cups his cheek. “You learned your Chantry relatives used you to potentially remove the ‘evil mage’ from your bloodline. You recognized you could not protect Evelyn by being a templar. It was slowly killing who she loved as her cousin and brother. Those times do not differ from now. You recognize when others—especially your uncle—are wrong. Your parents were wrong that night to discount you, just as you were wrong about Cullen. They have challenged your ideologies since Evelyn announced her pregnancy. I want you to know…it took an impressive deal of courage to go against your uncle.”

“Like when you left your uncle to become a seeker?”

Cassandra shrugs. “You know courage is relative. What is difficult to me might not be for you.”

“Cassandra, nothing is difficult for you.” Rian kisses her forehead.

“Ugh, you forget I chopped off my hair because I couldn’t handle anything tickling my neck.”

“And you did a very Cassandra Pentaghast thing and took matters into your own hands.”

“I act too rashly. My trainers always scolded me for that.”

Rian slightly smiles. “And I counted on that when I proposed to you. I am thankful we eloped before you figured out you deserved the moons, stars, and universe than an ex-templar who takes loyalty and honor like the Maker’s grand law.”

Cassandra grunts and rolls her espresso eyes. “You give me those things by being you, Ri.”

Rian gestures to her closed book. “I’m not your sappy romantic heroes you so much.”

“No, you’re better. You actually exist.” She kisses his lips. “I’m proud of you.”

“I should have listened to you.” Cassandra’s human admits shyly. “Instead of supporting Evelyn, I made her life more difficult. Cullen and she could have been together sooner if I disagreed with Ian. We have so many resources on most templars, but she feared coming to us on his identity because I believed the baby’s father manipulative and disgusting.” 

Rian takes long, steady breath. “You know this takes me a great deal to admit but…Cullen is a great guy and will be a supportive father for her and the baby. I knew that after that first horrific dinner you arranged. He solidified his intentions when we played chess after assisting him in moving. The more he opens, the more you realize he is a damaged individual rejected by the world…like Evie. He is the first significant other I actually believe might deserve her.”

Cassandra approves of the assessment. “I knew you would like him. You two think very similar. I wanted to match-make them via their lyrium passions that night at the gala. I worried she was doing everything alone and knew Cullen would be an excellent friend and confidente. Evidently, I wasn’t the only one who envisioned them together. I spoke with Leliana on the phone last night and she too always wanted to put them on a blind date. You know how attune she is about reading people. The Maker just beat us to it.”

Rian scrunches his nose, not exactly liking the news, but relents. “It is better this way.”

“I agree. I know they both never expected a child conceived in such matters, but neither regrets it. They celebrate it.” Cassandra grins at her scowling husband. “You know, it will be a contest on which one of you cares and loves Evelyn more soon. Cullen will win no matter what you have done. You love her like a sister, but that man is madly in love with Evelyn.”

Rian blinks and whips his head towards his wife while she sips her wine nonchalantly. “He loves her?!”

The former seeker smirks, excited to actually have this conversation finally. Leliana and she gossiped about it for two hours over the phone. The news nearly made the red hair hop a Val Royeaux plane and visit. She her wife Maya Amell will move to Haven in the next month anyway, so they both will watch this romance soon. “I think he loved her even in Val Royeaux.” Her dark brown eyes stare off, imagining the scenes Evie and Cullen separately described about their rendezvous. “How he spoke so fondly and nostalgic about their first interactions…and then when they started learning about each other. He smiles just so even time I ask about her.”

“This is not one of your novels, my Dear.”

“I know.” Cassandra wisps happily. “It’s much better. Only our romance rivals theirs.” She sips her wine again.

Rian huffs and pouts. “There are too many things that could have gone wrong…”

“You cannot plan for everything, Ri.” Cassandra chuckles. “Just look at your proposal. You did everything perfectly, but never predicted a bird pooping on your shoulder right as you asked.”

“I thought I blew your dream proposal.”

The seeker lawyer nudges his side. “I believe it made it more memorable. It will definitely be a perfect story to our future niece.”

“I agree with Evelyn. The baby’s a boy.”

Cassandra eyes her husband. He accents roughens. “Why?”

“It is how she carries. He sits so low that she has a more pronounced stomach.”

Rian’s wife scuffs. “Maker, that’s an old wives’ tale.”

“Not according to Varric’s betting pool.” Rian remarks, knowing any mention of Varric irritates her to no end, especially regarding Evie’s pregnancy. Cassandra has become Evie’s social shield since she got pregnant. Cassandra refuses to have children after developing the fear they will marry her off to breed more Pentaghast. That is one reason she fled Navarra. Rian and she spoke at length about having a family while dating. Neither person felt comfortable around strangers’ children. Furthermore, their careers were all they ever wanted. Children just fit into their plans.

Now, being an aunt and uncle is something completely different…

“Ugh, Varric does not know when to quit.” Cassandra grunts, thinking of alternative ways to punch the dwarf. “You know there is a betting pool for when Cullen and Evelyn become a couple.”

“According to you, they already are.”

Cassandra rolls her eyes again. “They are in that pining, scared stage.”

“You mean like us when you asked for my help to investigate my old platoon member?”

“ _Anyway,_ ” Cassandra interjects, ignoring that awkward few weeks before Rian asked to court her. “I never thought you one for superstitious customs, Rian.”

“I am not…” Rian looks away. He quickly whispers in a low tone that Cassandra cannot hear.

She pokes his side. “What was that, Sir Knight?”

Rian blows out his cheeks. “I have been…reading everything baby related. When Evelyn would not tell us anything, I wanted to learn as much as possible to properly protect her. I…got obsessed, actually.”

Cassandra chuckles and shakes her head. “I expect no less for Evelyn. If the heart surgeon was absent the day of her transplant, you would have known exactly how to do the surgery.”

“While I learned everything about transplants, I think handling Esme’s heart would have been too much for me.” Rian mumbles, flicking lent off his pant leg.

“I know you’re scared, Rian.” Cassandra hugs her husband. “You’ve looked after Evelyn for most of your life. First, as her cousin-brother, then in the Circle. What you did this weekend demonstrates you can finally lessen your grip and maybe shift that responsibility to Evelyn herself and someone who loves her romantically. Evelyn has always handled herself, but Cullen is better equipped to stand by her now. Don’t fear: she will always need her big brother.”

Rian sighs and leans into his wife’s embrace. “I know. I still look at her and see all the tubes hanging out of her little newborn limbs. When Esme died and she still laid unconscious in ICU, I thought I failed again to protect those I loved. You know why I stayed with Ian that weekend and never went on the rafting trip. You are the only person who knows _everything_. When they both laid in the hospital, I envisioned my parents’ bloody bodies crumpled in the front seat while I stuck in the back. When Evelyn awoke, I made sure to not fall on my laurels again.”

“And you haven’t.” Cassandra proclaims, cupping his face in her hands. “You cannot keep her caged in your hands forever. She will be a mother soon and have her own family.”

“I know.” Rian takes a deep breath. “I did the right thing this weekend. I know I did.” His stormy grey eyes lock on Cassandra’s, confirmation and resolution settling in his soul. “I broke from Uncle Ian. I refused to help him search for Cullen anymore. I joined Aunt Gwen to support and love this new baby, no matter the outcome. Aunt Gwen proclaim she will do something drastic if Ian continues to act foolishly. Ian was the opposite of happy. He accused me of going back against my promise to protect her. I believed him until I voiced by doing this, I was not just protecting and loving her, but everyone she holds dear in life. The baby…Cullen…that new happy family.”

“I am so proud of you.” Cassandra kisses Rian’s lips softly. “You will be an amazing uncle. Nothing like mine or Ian.”

“Can I tell you another reason I think it is a boy?”

“Oh?”

“I want a ring bearer to carry our rings down the aisle.”

Cassandra squints. “Rian, we’re already married.”

“I know. It does not mean we can’t have a nice small, personal ceremony this summer. Cullen and I already talked about the baby riding his mabari to deliver the rings.” He massages her neck. “Besides I want to see you in your dream wedding dress, my Warrior Princess.”

The seeker giggles. “As that baby’s godparents, I think we should decline. Not very safe for a baby. Now, dress _her_ in a cute matching flower girl dress in her walker, and I will be okay with that.”

“That’s why you want a girl…”

Cassandra blushes. “I even found a matching baby dress to the wedding gown I have been eying.”

Rian’s laughter echoes throughout the penthouse. His mood is opposite to how he entered the penthouse. “So, you thought about a small ceremony too?”

“Cullen suggested it at the gala.”

“Smart man. Put a worm in both our ears to resolve our disappointment about skipping a wedding.” Rian chuckles and then huffs. “Bloody Trevelyans and Pentaghast. Extended families are annoying.”

“Oh, you’ll find Cullen is full of surprises.” Cassandra grins, thinking about his long-term romantic plan to woe Evie.

“Getting my sister pregnant is surprising enough.”

Cassandra rolls her espresso eyes and crawls into her husband lap. “I think the surprises are just beginning.” She kisses him passionately. “I have my own too.”

Rian chuckles and shakes his hand as his arms encircle her. Cassandra can tell he is already wound up. “I cannot wait to discover them all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] From the poem “The Right Thing” by Theodore Roethke. I do not own the rights.
> 
> Cute and sweet Rian and Cassandra! Future aunt and uncle! XD! I wanted to give a glimpse of how everything happening to Cullen and Evie influenced her brother and best friends. I could write about Cassandra forever especially her softer side. one of my favorite characters of all time.


	5. Whole New World

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As my birthday is this month, I think this one-shot is appropriate for my own birth decades ago and the arrival of a new, fun character in my stories. This one-shot came to me Sunday and just poured out, breaking my two-month writer's block. I love how it turned out! Enjoy!
> 
> Theme Song: "Caribbean Blue" by Enya (On the "Passing Ships" Playlists!_

Diana never imagined the outside world being so colorful and open. Being in her Mommy’s tummy for eight months made Diana feel snug. Unfortunately, she could barely stretch and grab, these limbs difficult and new. Now, she can reach and fling her arms and legs excitedly. She can grasp fingers and kick at the voices she has heard for months. Though their faces are blurry, Diana finally can correlate those accents to a being.

The first person Diana met happily is a blurry, tall man whose baritone echoed into the womb for the last few months. He whispers to Diana like his voice could shatter the newborn. Again, Diana is stuck in a strange tight space and unable to grab at the man’s face. When they remove her from the strange clear bubble, the man finally lifts and holds her. Diana feels warm and protected. While happy to see this unknown world, it can be quite scary. This baritone with a musical inner tune brings the baby peace.

“Hey there, Pup…” The husky baritone greets in wisps. “I’m your Daddy.”

Daddy. Diana knows that name well. She remembers hearing this title through her Mommy’s tummy almost every day. _Daddy…_

“I’m so happy to meet you, Little Diana.” Daddy proclaims with a smirk. His amber eyes shimmer so clearly, even with her blurry gaze. She is tired and still acclimating to living on her own. Still, she reaches for what she thinks is his nose. Instead, she feels roughness, his jaw textured in a way she never knew until now. A long white mark intersects his smiling lips. Who harmed him? That should scare her, but she fears nothing. She knows he will love and protect for her entire life.

The next person Diana excitedly meets is the woman who cared for her for over eight months. Her daddy hands little Diana to her Mommy, her warming magic enveloping the newborn. It has been too long to meet face-to-face.

Diana’s mommy cradles her. A familiar maternal attachment automatically occurs like two magnetics flipped and snapped together. Diana knows her mom like she knows herself. “My Light…my greatest wish.” 

Mommy kisses Diana’s forehead, the strummed strings of great inner music flowing through Diana. Her mommy has struggled greatly throughout Diana’s gestation. Now, she smiles, so relieved that it was all worth it.

Something lays dormant inside Diana that she knows her mother gifted her. It hums like her coos as Mommy sings to her while providing her nutritious milk. She wants to grasp this hum, drawn to her mother’s magic so encompassing and grand. Alas, the connection is not there yet. Diana will just have to wait.

As Diana falls asleep after eating, she thinks about the two tunes her mother and father play together. Her daddy is like the sunshine that brightens Diana’s world as they carry her out of the hospital. It is bright, nearly waking the sleepy baby. If Diana is Light, Daddy is the sun.

Meanwhile, Mommy is the warmth and energy. Her magic is a fire that may hurt, but she never uses it irresponsibility. Instead, she provides and shields Diana, who is never too hot or too cold with her mother. She is the halo, blotting out the world’s darkness.

This family together provides everything needed to brighten the world, _their_ world. Light, Sun, and Halo Warmth, each playing a song that rivals the greatest symphony.

* * *

Diana has been home for a few days. Mommy and Daddy are always there to change her diaper and feed her. She wakes from a strange world with shiny spirits and scary shadows who whisper in her ears. Diana cries when the shadows become too much, but her parents are always there to hold her and rock away the fear. They are never far away, their love warming Diana’s young soul.

Today, there are fresh voices in her home. Some sound familiar, brief tunes she noticed while in the womb. Some shouted at her parents, while others advised and cared. If they are there and so close to Diana, that means her parents trust them. They too will raise her in love and happiness.

The first two people cannot be more opposites. The first is a woman who resembles her mommy, but with bits of grey highlights. Beside her is a bearded man with a deep voice that frightens the newborn at first before he hums a sea shanty that makes Diana giggle. She learns these are her grandparents, the only living ones unfortunately. Grandfather is regal, but lies on the floor beside Diana, saying gibberish when no one is looking. 

Meanwhile, ‘Mam’mal,’ as Diana will call her, changes her diapers and dresses her in soft comfy onesies after Diana spits up. Her singing voice is second to her mother’s, but still lauds the baby asleep. She will be a close companion when Diana’s parents return to work. Fun times will come when staying with this sweet woman.

A day later, a coarse voice echoes throughout Diana’s home, but the person emits strength and independence. Her skin is darker than her parents, while her short black hair startles Diana. Yet, her espresso eyes and adorable grin shine down at Diana.

“I am your Aunt Cassandra…” The woman speaks with her strange accent. “I will teach you how to stand up to men who think you weak, and how to defend yourself with hand-to-hand training.”

Another bass voice beside her aunt booms around Diana. “Cass, she is only two-weeks old. I think she is a little too young to learn a right hook.”

Diana’s aunt huffs. “It is never too late. I’ve seen her grab your nose, Rian. This woman will kick and throw you over her shoulder by the time she’s three!”

The man ignores his wife. “Do not listen to her, Sweetie. She will likely teach you her favorite romantic poems. You are beautiful, Little One. You will beat the boys off with a stick.”

“And use that right hook Auntie Cass will teach her!” Diana’s daddy hollers from somewhere. “She’s not allowed to date until she is eighty!”

* * *

Blonde curls everywhere.

“She looks like Rosie when she was born!” The tallest blonde woman proclaims, clapping. “Kids! Come and meet your cousin!”

All these faces make Diana nervous. They talk over each other and peek into her crib. Diana whimpers, searching for her mommy and daddy in the chaos.

“Only three people at a time…” Mommy advises, shooing some children out of Diana’s nursery. “Diana isn’t used to so much fun.”

“Look at those soft blonde curls.” A second woman comments, running her hand over Diana’s head. “So this is what Cullen’s curls are actually like under that mountain of pomade.”

“I have _wavy_ hair, Rosie.” Daddy growls from a corner.

“Keep lying to yourself, my Lion.” Mommy mocks.

“Don’t mind them, Kido.” A man similar to her father but shorter remarks with a wink. “Welcome to the Rutherfords. I’m your Uncle Branson. The silly woman making faces is your crazy Aunt Rosalie. Lastly, the scary woman who gave birth to all your cousins is bossy Aunt Mia.”

Aunt Mia slaps Branson’s bicep lightly. “Behave yourself, Bran, or I’ll tell your wife!”

“You’ll tell her, anyway.” Uncle Branson rolls his blue eyes. “You’ll meet your cousin Lynston this Satinalia. You gotta grow a little before handling _all_ of us Rutherfords. Just know we’re so happy you’re here.”

Aunt Mia steps away from the crib. Her demanding voice calls, “We’ve got to have a wedding celebration for you two! I want to see Evie in a beautiful dress. We can get a flower girl dress for Diana! You two can match.”

Diana’s daddy sighs and pinches his nose. “Mia…Please don’t…”

Aunt Mia does not listen and only continues to plan a wedding that has already happened.

“My Lion, what’s this…?”

Mommy’s voice contains confusion and mirth. She enters the room, stopping Aunt Mia gushing about flower arrangements and bridesmaids colors. Daddy gasps and starts panting. For a moment, Diana whimpers until Aunt Rosie starts to giggle and nudging her brother to look.

“Is that a _framed pair of underwear?!_ ” Aunt Mia exclaims, her face snapping between a grinning Mommy and beet-red Daddy.

“If I know my brands and colors, I believe they are _mine_.” Mommy explains, perking an eyebrow at her husband. “A pair I haven’t seen since Val Royeaux actually…”

“Icanexplain.” Cullen blurts out, but it too late. The entire family is laughing at Daddy’s purple face and neck. He rubs his neck a dozen time, then eyes his own giggling newborn. “You too, Di?! I thought you would be on my side!”

Mommy pokes his bicep. “Why would she when she came from such an event?”

“Phrasing.” Aunt Rosalie does not miss a beat. “That’s what _exactly_ happened, right dear Brother?”

Now, the entire family is gushing about weddings and Diana’s conception, joy filling the nursery. Diana giggles and coos. A crazy, loving Clan Rutherfords indeed.

* * *

“Come on, Kadan. She can’t bite.” A rough male voice advises while he easily cradles Diana in his big blue grey hand.

“That’s because she has no teeth!” A fabulously dressed man replies, flicking his hand towards Diana’s mouth. “If she could, poor Evie would be minus nipples.”

“I didn’t hear you talking about my wife’s breasts, Dorian!” Daddy calls from another room.

“All the more reason to hold her. Just look at that button nose and green eyes. You’ll get a better look if you hold her.” 

The man holding Diana is massive with spikes coming out of his head. He only has one eye and many scars. He keeps Diana’s attention as the baby has never seen a person like him yet. She wants to bounce around his shoulder while holding those horns laughing, while this man runs around. Although, Daddy will have something to say about that.

“She smells.” The second man huffs, crossing his arms over his suit. “And this is an expensive suit. If she spits up Evie’s milk, I doubt the dry cleaner can get rid of it.”

“Stop talking about my wife’s breasts!”

“Underwear, Husband…”

Everyone including Diana laughs while Daddy mumbles, “Maker’s breath…”

“Diana smells wonderful!” The horned man exclaims, kissing her forehead. “Even better than you, Kadan.”

“I take offense to that!”

“Well, you smell her, Uncle Dori!”

The second man leans over into Diana’s vision. “I am Dorian, not Dori. No other name.”

“She doesn’t understand you.” 

Actually, Diana does. Uncle Esme taught her much in the womb, but they need not know that. He tells her tales while she sleeps in that weird green place. She will probably forget his presence as she gets older, but she holds onto his guidance while traversing this new world.

“They put her in that awful outfit?!” Dorian hollers. He rushes to a dresser in the nursery. “I bought her a nice dress! She needs to look fantastic. And who brushed those curls?! Oh, bows! Yes, these will match perfectly.”

The horned man smirks and leans down over Diana. “Don’t mind him. He’s scared, Didi. He says you smell and don’t look go, when in actuality he was smitten with you the moment you arrived, just like the Chargers. They built you a huge swing set to play on!”

“Bull! Dress her in this, please!” Dorian hurried back to his husband.

“Why me?”

“Because you’re holding her.”

With his cradling hand, he nudges Diana to Dorian. “Why not you?”

“I…I don’t want to touch…”

“Kadan…”

“I could break her.” Diana’s god father whimpers, concern and anxiety in his grey eyes.

“Nah. Her skull is still soft. See.” Uncle Iron Bull pressed on the back of her head, making Diana kick him. “Look at that! She’s going be the best Charger!”

“All the more reason to not touch her.”

“Then she wears this onesie.”

Dorian huffs and waves to the changing table. “Fine, put her down… Why do I have to everything in this marriage.”

“Because you are a perfectionistic control freak.”

“No sex for you!”

Uncle Bull covers Diana’s ears. “Not in front of the baby!”

Uncle Dorian rolls his eyes and plans how he will dress Diana without actually touching her. He pinches his finger and thumb to unbutton Diana’s onesies. He keeps his head back, wincing when he smells something. Diana takes offense, pouting at her godfather.

Then the Tevinter’s face softens as he dresses her in the dress. “Look how adorable…Let’s give you a princess hairstyle. A full head of hair, like your handsome daddy. You need the right socks and shoes now. Something with lace to match…”

Dorian finishes dressing Diana, making the baby laugh. “Absolutely fabulous. You and I will go shopping every month. Keep looking so grand. Vivienne and I always say the outfit makes the person. But you already are perfect.”

Amazingly, Dorian picks Diana up. He holds her at a distance before cradling her against his chest. “You _do_ smell good…” He praises with a soft smile.

“You’re made to be a dad, Kadan.” Iron Bull remarks, watching his husband hold the newborn.

“You trying to tell me something, Amatus?”

“Yes…”

Dorian takes a deep breath. “I’m…scared…”

Diana reaches for his moustache and twists it. She wants to comfort and assure him. She knows through his magic he is not what he fears.

“She knows a perfect face when she sees one…” Dorian giggles. His grey eyes flick to Iron Bull. “We’ll just _look_ into adoption. I can’t promise you anything.”

“That’s all I ask, Dorian.” Bull whispers, kissing his husband.

“And in the meantime, we will be the best uncles to this little one. After all, I’m your godfather.”

Diana coos, patting his smooth face. Another fear slowly evaporates and allows peace. If that is Diana’s duty in this new world, she will shine and be everyone’s light happily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed this new perspective and some tied loose ends I could not fit into the main story! I am definitely writing more Diana stories in the future as she is just the best of Cullen and Evie without the hurts and pains. I absolutely love her. In this one-shot, I wanted to add other introductions with like Varric, Sera, Cole, etc., but I love how things ended with Dorian and Iron Bull. I might do another one like this with the other DA characters in the future, but I think this wraps up the main ones for this story.
> 
> With that being said, you'll see that this part is labeled "Complete" now. While the main story and one-shots are done, I have a feeling in the future I will be adding more one-shots here, especially to break my recurring writer's block. Like Diana's first steps and words, her first day of school, her first crush, etc. I want to work with her more while exhibiting Evie and Cullen's new lives as a married happy family. So, make sure to bookmark and subscribe to stay updated! 
> 
> If you have an idea for a one-shot, let me know in the comments! XD!
> 
> Initially starting this side project, I wanted do more one-shots while posting the main story. This summer has not been kind in my world (or anyone's for that matter), essentially killing my time and creativity. It is a peaceful happy place for me to create and share my stories. Thank you all for following me on this journey. I keep writing to heal myself, but also to share my ideas with you all. You keep me writing. I thank you for always coming back to read, comments, and sharing. You all have my deepest gratitude. HEART!


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